


The Right Moment to Speak

by tarinumenesse



Series: Finding Our Feet [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarinumenesse/pseuds/tarinumenesse
Summary: Sylvain likes Ingrid. Ingrid seems oblivious. And Sylvain has never been good at telling the truth or finding the right moment.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Finding Our Feet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715935
Comments: 14
Kudos: 101





	The Right Moment to Speak

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't plan for my Dorolix Weekend oneshot to go any further, but boom, here's a series cos Sylvain and Ingrid are cute. This takes place before the events of "Reasons to Like You."

“Cheers,” Ingrid said, turning to Sylvain and clinking her cocktail against his beer.

Sylvain drank, turning to face the room. The club was full, the dancefloor overflowing with people writhing to the music. On a balcony overlooking the floor, Sylvain could see Hilda sprawled across a couch, looking thoroughly bored with her own party.

“Why did Holst pick this place?” he shouted over the music, looking at Ingrid. “Hilda couldn’t be less interested.”

Ingrid sipped her cocktail as she looked up at the birthday girl. Sylvain took advantage of her distraction to stare at her. He had been surprised when he picked Ingrid up. First, she was wearing a dress. Nothing un-Ingrid, exactly: plain, teal-green, gathered at the waist and with a skirt reaching below the knees. But pretty and a dress. Second, she had replaced her usual oversized duffle bag with a silver purse, albeit one with a very practical shoulder strap. Third, and this was the most shocking part of all, she was wearing makeup. That was almost cause to phone in a missing person report or something. Sylvain had known Ingrid since she was four years old and she had never, not once, worn makeup.

Maybe that was an exaggeration. But the point was, Ingrid had dressed up on the night Sylvain had offered to give her a lift.

“I guess she figures dancing is too much work,” Ingrid said suddenly, looking back at Sylvain. He quickly leaned against the bar, trying to be casual, like he hadn’t been checking out his best friend.

“I suppose we are getting a bit old for this scene,” he said wisely.

Ingrid laughed and propped her elbow on the bar.

“You’ve been working at your dad’s company for how long, a day?” she said. “And you’re already pulling the old man excuse?”

Sylvain faced her, taking a step closer so they could hear each other better.

“Seriously Ingrid, it’s the worst,” he said. “I don’t know how people sit at a desk for eight hours straight. It’s so boring.”

“Come back to uni with me,” Ingrid suggested, taking another sip of her drink.

Sylvain shuddered. It had been five years since he escaped Garreg Mach University and he still didn’t feel ready to set foot in its hallowed halls again. He was flabbergasted that Felix, Dimitri and Ingrid had all decided to return after only a two-year break.

“No thank you,” he said. “I gave enough of my youth to that place. I’ll not give it a moment more.”

“Old man one minute, a youth the next,” Ingrid commented with a smirk. “You have a remarkably fluid concept of age.”

“Age is just a number. It’s all about your frame of mind.”

“Well I think it’s good that your father forced you to get a job,” Ingrid said. “You couldn’t gallivant around the world forever.”

“I did have a job…”

“Excuse me?”

Sylvain turned to see two girls standing in front of them. Both were wearing extremely short dresses. He hadn’t noticed them coming. Odd.

“What can I do for you lovely ladies?” Sylvain asked.

The one with raven black hair and a sparkling red dress blushed charmingly and said, “You’re Sylvain, right? You studied with my older brother.”

Sylvain narrowed his eyes at her, searching his memory.

“Peter’s sister, right?” he guessed finally.

The girl grinned. “I’m Bella.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Bella,” Sylvain said. “And your beautiful friend is…?”

“Penny,” the other girl, brunette, pretty eyes whose colour he couldn’t make out in the dim light, said. “Aren’t you going to dance?”

Bella glanced at Ingrid and back at Sylvain. “Unless, of course, you two came together?”

Sylvain looked at Ingrid. She didn’t look at him. She laughed and waved a hand through the air.

“Goddess, no,” she said. “We’re just friends. He’s all yours.”

Ingrid reached across to take Sylvain’s beer. He thought it was oddly nice of her, until she hissed in his ear, “If I end tonight with one of these girls bawling her eyes out in my arms, I’ll kill you.”

Sylvain flashed his teeth at her. He offered an arm to each of the girls and led them to the dancefloor, his chest feeling oddly tight and empty.

Bella was the wing-woman. She disappeared right after they started dancing, leaving Sylvain and Penny to become as well-acquainted as deafening drumbeats and a seething mass of sweaty people allowed. Sylvain learned enough to decide he wouldn’t mind escaping the club with her, and from there it was a short trip outside to discover her eyes were hazel, she didn’t smoke, was super intelligent (a literal space scientist-to-be), and quite funny. She was a good kisser and enthusiastic when he suggested they go back to his place.

And it was only after she was fast asleep in Sylvain’s bed, with him lying awake next to her and feeling like absolute crap, that he asked himself what the hell had happened.

Sylvain carefully extracted himself from the bed, pulled on some pyjama pants and crept out of the room. He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He’d never finished the first one.

The sound of the front door opening drew him into the hallway. Felix entered, weighed down with his backpack and a pile of library books. Sylvain glanced at the clock. Two AM.

“Hey,” Sylvain said quietly.

Felix looked up and grunted. He threw open his bedroom door and dropped the books on his desk before shunting his backpack and coat.

“Been studying all this time?” Sylvain asked as Felix pushed past him to the kitchen.

“I’m going to have to put off my thesis till next semester,” Felix said. “I can’t find a…”

He trailed off, his eyes settling on something in the main room. Sylvain followed his gaze to see Penny’s heels lying by the television.

“Ah,” he said, taking a swig of beer. “Yeah.”

Felix shrugged and opened the fridge. “Any food?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Did you leave Ingrid at the party?”

“How dare you,” Sylvain said. “I texted her. She said it was fine. Dimitri gave her a lift home.”

Felix snorted. He opened the cupboard where they kept emergency food and chose a ramen cup.

“You should be more considerate of Ingrid’s feelings,” he said. “You know she hates cleaning up after you.”

“She doesn’t have to clean up after me,” Sylvain scoffed.

“You know she does,” Felix said, filling the kettle with water and lighting the stove. “Whenever you pick up a girl, Ingrid’s there and gets introduced as your friend. Do you know what happens to female friends when a guy dumps his girlfriend?”

“I haven’t had any girlfriends.”

“My mistake. For you, it’s one-night stands who, for some reason, think you’re this season’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Hey, I’m eligible…”

“Ingrid becomes their shoulder to cry on. She has to explain why you never call. Then she’s blamed for your inability to commit.”

“That does not happen. You’ve been reading trash magazines again.”

“Are you planning to see this girl again?”

Sylvain dropped down onto one of the stools at the servery. He thought of Penny, her pretty eyes, her clever conversation. She was good in bed. And then he thought of Ingrid and shook his head.

Felix raised a single eyebrow as he filled the ramen cup with boiling water. Sylvain could almost taste the judgement rolling off him as weighed the lid down with chopsticks, then picked up the whole lot and headed for his bedroom. It pissed Sylvain off and he lurched to his feet, following.

“At least I’m not an uptight gynophobe who’s never been laid,” he said.

Felix stopped at the door to his room and turned back to lift the same eyebrow at Sylvain again.

“Really? That’s the best you can do?” he said.

Sylvain spluttered. Felix rolled his eyes and entered his room, closing the door behind him.

As though in response, Sylvain’s bedroom door opened. Penny stood there, wrapped in a blanket, her expression revealing she had heard most of the conversation.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Sylvain threw her a smile.

“Just my idiot roommate. Need anything?”

Penny shook her head. “Come back to bed?” she asked.

Sylvain’s stomach churned, and not pleasantly. “I’ll be just a minute,” he said.

Sylvain spread his arms across the cafeteria table and lowered his head onto them, glancing again at the clock. He’d been waiting for an hour. How long did it take to meet with a supervisor? And who met with their supervisor on a Saturday morning?

The university had changed a lot since his last visit. They had knocked down the entire business school and rebuilt it, so he’d gotten lost when wandering through the grounds for nostalgia’s sake. His favourite coffee place was gone, replaced with a bubble tea joint. The library had self-checkout machines. No more flirting with cute girls part-timing as librarians.

Sylvain grabbed his bubble tea. The benefit of straws, he thought, was that you didn’t need to sit up to drink. Only one week of fulltime work and he was exhausted.

The scrape of chair legs across linoleum made Sylvain jump. He sat up to see Ingrid take the seat opposite, sighing as she dropped her duffle bag on the floor. She pulled her grey coat tight around her and shivered.

“It’s so cold today,” she commented before looking at Sylvain. “So what’s wrong?”

Sylvain pushed the brown sugar milk tea (without pearls) he had ordered for her across the table. Ingrid regarded it suspiciously.

“For me?” she said.

“You like them,” Sylvain replied.

Ingrid crossed her arms and arched her eyebrows in a fearful imitation of Felix.

“That’s not the point,” she said flatly.

“I’m sorry?” Sylvain offered.

Ingrid laughed and took the tea, bouncing on her chair as she had her first sip.

“Goddess, you’re easy to wind up,” she said. “Did you have a good time with Penny?”

Sylvain stirred his tea with the straw, watching the pearls ripple through the liquid.

“Your meeting took a long time,” he commented.

“Oh,” Ingrid said, putting her tea down, “I didn’t get to tell you the big news yet. I got Professor Lansbury as my supervisor.”

Her smile told Sylvain what his reaction was supposed to be. Lucky, because his first one—pretty— was not relevant to the topic at hand.

“That’s good?” he asked.

“He’s the best equine veterinarian in the country.”

“Then that’s fantastic!” Sylvain exclaimed.

Ingrid beamed. “Isn’t it?”

“I mean,” Sylvain said, picking at the sticker on his bubble tea, “it only makes sense. You did graduate with distinction. And didn’t your boss say you were the best hire he’d made in years?”

“Still, there’s no guarantee you’ll get who you want.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re going to be a world-class vet. We should celebrate.”

Ingrid tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you have a date or something?” she asked.

“Me?”

“You’re all dressed up.”

Sylvain looked down. He thought he had managed to pull off the casually-threw-this-together look, giving no hint that he’d spent thirty minutes trying on different outfits.

“We should celebrate,” he said decisively, looking back up at Ingrid.

Ingrid hesitated, then reached down and grabbed her duffle bag.

“Sorry, can’t,” she said. “I’ve got a family thing this afternoon. My father will kill me if I don’t turn up.”

She stood up, showcasing her tea like it was loot in a video game.

“Thanks for the tea,” she said. “It’s just how I like it. See you around.”

And she left Sylvain sitting alone in the cafeteria. He slouched in his chair, groaning. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened the message history with Ingrid.

_Do you have time today?_

_I’ll have a minute after I meet with my supervisor. What’s wrong?_

_Nothing._

_Fine, I’ll meet you at the cafeteria. About 11. Maybe 12._

_See you then._

Wondering how he had read so much into such an obviously unimportant conversation, Sylvain switched to calls and found Felix’s number. He lifted the phone to his ear, eying passers-by suspiciously until Felix finally answered.

“What do you want?”

“Goddess, eat something, Felix. You’re not you when…”

“Tell me what you want or I’ll hang up.”

“Do you want to go to the movies?”

“Goodbye.”

“No, seriously. I’ve got a spare ticket.”

There was a pause.

“Did you get stood up?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. Not really.”

Sylvain was sure that wherever Felix was, the room was shaking with the strength of his sigh.

“Just pick up a girl at the theatre. Bye.”

The line went dead.

At the cinema, Sylvain bought a hot dog, a large popcorn, a beer and ice cream. The clerk scanned the ticket on his phone while he balanced it all in his arms.

“Is your friend coming late?” the clerk asked.

“Nah. Pulled out at the last minute. Bastard.”

The clerk gave no reaction as he waved Sylvain through.

Sylvain lifted his feet onto the table while his game loaded. He was fumbling for the chocolate bar he’d half-eaten when Felix entered the room, saw him and jumped.

“It’s Friday night,” Felix said when he’d recovered.

“So?” Sylvain replied.

“You’re on the couch in your track pants.”

“I’m tired,” Sylvain whined. “Working life is so hard.”

“Well, I assumed you were going out. Like usual. Ingrid and Dimitri are coming over.”

Sylvain dropped his feet to the floor and sat up.

“What?”

“Dimitri wants to compare timetables or something before semester starts.”

Sylvain dropped the controller and pushed Felix out of the way. In his bedroom, he threw open his wardrobe and dug through the bundle of clothes on the floor. He heard the doorbell and cursed. Felix had said they were coming, not that they were on the doorstep. He grabbed some jeans and kicked his bedroom door closed at the same time as pushing down his track pants.

When Sylvain emerged from his room, he found Ingrid in his place on the couch, playing his video game and with his chocolate bar hanging out of her mouth. She looked up at him, guilt flashing in those green eyes. Sylvain realised that, shit, he really was in love because even like that she looked beautiful.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri greeted. Sylvain looked across at the kitchen to see him unpacking a large bag of Korean chicken. “We thought you were going out tonight.”

“No one actually bothered to ask if I had plans,” Sylvain said. He sat down beside Ingrid and took the controller out of her hands. “I’m hurt, really.”

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri said. “On the bright side, I think Ingrid ordered enough chicken to feed a small army.”

Ingrid took the chocolate bar out of her mouth.

“Horse riding works up an appetite, I’ll have you know,” she said.

“If you’re that hungry, imagine how the poor horse carrying you feels,” Sylvain said.

Ingrid glared at him.

“You’re not getting this back,” she said, indicating the chocolate bar.

“I’d accepted that.”

Felix came out of his bedroom carrying his laptop.

“I think the tickets have sold out,” he said to Dimitri. He put the computer on the table and dropped down to sit cross-legged on the floor.

“Tickets?” Sylvain asked.

“We were thinking of going to the second-year showcase at uni next month,” Dimitri said, carrying the box of chicken and a pile of plates into the main room. “Do you want to come?”

“There’s no point asking him if the tickets are sold out,” Felix pointed out.

“I already have tickets. For all of us,” Sylvain said.

Three pairs of eyes turned towards him.

“What?” Sylvain asked.

“You are the last person in this room I would expect to see at a classical music concert,” Ingrid said. “At our university. Five years after you graduated. And when were you planning to tell us?”

Sylvain focussed on the television. “Dorothea got them for me.”

“How the hell do you know Dorothea?” Felix snapped.

This time, Sylvain, Dimitri and Ingrid all stared at Felix.

“She applied for a bursary from my dad’s company,” Sylvain said. “I met her during the interview process.”

“You were on an interview panel for a bursary?” Felix uttered in disbelief.

Sylvain shook his head. “I was tasked with the very important duty of collecting the candidates from the foyer. She didn’t get the money, but she wanted to thank me for being so friendly. My dad was probably an arse to her, let’s be honest.”

“And?”

Sylvain held up his hands in surrender.

“And what, Felix? I’ve come across her maybe once or twice since then. Do you want a ticket or not?”

Felix grunted and closed his laptop.

“Let’s eat,” Dimitri suggested, offering Ingrid a plate.

When Ingrid started collecting the dirty plates, Sylvain jumped up to help. He followed her to the kitchen and opened the fridge, crouching down to search for a spot for the leftovers. He could hear Dimitri and Felix pondering over which game to play in the next room.

“Hey.”

Sylvain looked up. Ingrid was standing right beside him. She glanced towards the main room and ducked down too, bringing their eyes level.

“You never planned to go out tonight, did you?” she said. “It’s not that you were too tired.”

Sylvain smiled and began to rearrange things in the fridge. He was questioning how long a plastic container of spaghetti had been there when he felt a pair of lips brush his cheek. He froze, spaghetti still in hand, and stared straight ahead at the fridge light.

“You remembered,” Ingrid said, her voice near his ear.

Sylvain turned his head to look at her, having to blink rapidly to clear flash blindness. She was so close. He prayed his face wasn’t turning red. Hopefully he was past blushing in front of girls. A man of his experience. Come on.

“Like I would forget,” he said.

They both glanced towards the main room, as though they could see Felix and Dimitri through the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Sylvain asked, turning back to Ingrid.

Ingrid shrugged.

“It’s kind of irrelevant, don’t you think?” she said. “I mean, Felix lost his brother and Dimitri lost his whole family. Glenn was just my first crush.”

Sylvain shifted his weight, resting the spaghetti container on his leg.

“Yeah, but you still lost someone. And I doubt anyone ever asked how you feel.”

Ingrid grimaced. “Thank goddess. If they had, Felix would have found out I liked Glenn.”

Sylvain smirked and reached up to put the spaghetti on the bench.

“He knows,” he said.

Ingrid slapped Sylvain’s arm. “He does not!”

“Ingrid, we all know. We all knew. You made it kind of obvious.”

“Did I?”

Sylvain looked at Ingrid. She was bright red. The urge to kiss her then and there was nearly overwhelming.

“Am I always that obvious when I like someone?” she whispered, her expression growing increasingly worried.

Sylvain reached out and tapped her on the nose.

“No,” he said.

“So you don’t know who I like now?”

Sylvain grabbed the fridge door for balance and swallowed the lump in his throat. He shoved some containers in the fridge aside to make space, focussing on that to maintain his composure.

“No,” he said.

“What are you doing?”

Sylvain and Ingrid looked up to see Felix standing in the door of the kitchen. His expression was suspicious.

“Nothing,” Sylvain said quickly.

Felix crossed his arms. “Dimitri suggested we go out for ice cream. What do you think?”

Ingrid jumped up, clapping her hands.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said.

Sylvain pulled himself up using the fridge door and retrieved the leftover chicken.

“I’ll pay,” he said as he put it in the fridge.

“You don’t have to,” Dimitri called from the hallway.

“My treat,” Sylvain insisted, grabbing his coat off the rack. “I have a proper job now, after all. All you little students should save your money.”

Ingrid’s eyes pleaded with Sylvain as she looked from the array of ice cream flavours to him. Sylvain sighed and gestured at the display again. Without saying a word, Ingrid pointed. White chocolate, salted caramel, and Tia Maria.

Sylvain turned to the extremely patient server.

“Three scoop cup with white chocolate, salted caramel and Tia Maria,” he said.

The server grabbed a cup and his scoop.

“You know, if Ingrid was paying, she’d tell you what you were having,” Felix said from behind them. “One scoop. Cone. Vanilla.”

“Shut up, Felix,” Ingrid snapped.

“Anything else?” the server asked as he put Ingrid’s ice cream on the counter.

“One scoop, cone, vanilla,” Sylvain answered.

Ingrid giggled as she took her ice cream and hurried across to the table where Dimitri was waiting with his lemon sorbet.

“Sure you don’t want anything, Felix?” Sylvain asked.

“Of course not.”

Sylvain touched his card to the terminal and took his cone from the stand. He and Felix walked towards the table, where Ingrid was sitting close to Dimitri, laughing at something he was saying. But Dimitri was as funny as a rock.

“Hey,” Sylvain said. “Ingrid said she likes someone.”

“So?” Felix replied.

“You don’t think it’s Dimitri, do you?”

“What does it matter?”

“I mean, Dimitri is, you know, Dimitri, but…”

“Sylvain, in what universe do you think I care whether Ingrid and Dimitri are secretly a thing?”

Fair point, Sylvain thought, silencing himself with ice cream.

Sylvain tapped his head as he stared at his tablet. No matter how he looked at it, his manager’s proposal didn’t make sense. He was making leaps in logic, and his solution to their problem would probably make things less efficient, not more.

“Sylvain.”

Sylvain looked up. Ingrid was standing in front of him. She was wearing a dress again, along with a pale blue coat sporting a fur collar. And she was clearly uncomfortable, adjusting the strap of her bag while Sylvain stared.

“You look nice,” he said.

Ingrid tugged on the hem of the dress.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m with Annette and Mercedes.”

She pointed across the café to her roommates. Annette waved enthusiastically at Sylvain. He lifted a hand in reply.

“Did they make you dress up?” he asked.

“Yes. This dress is Mercedes’s…anyway, I was just saying hi. We saw you when we came in.”

Sylvain put his tablet into his satchel and pushed back his chair.

“I’ll join you,” he said, throwing the satchel over his shoulder.

“Oh,” Ingrid said. “No, it’s okay. You look busy.”

“I can’t work all day, can I? It’s already,” he glanced at his watch, “six o’clock. Unless I’m interrupting a girls’ night?”

“Actually,” Ingrid said, wincing, “Mercedes suggested I ask if you want to join us.”

“Gladly,” Sylvain said.

He picked up his coffee and put his hand at the small of Ingrid’s back. She jumped. Sylvain whipped his hand away.

“Goddess,” he said. “Sorry. I forgot.”

Ingrid stared at him. “Forgot what?” she demanded.

“Um, that it’s you?”

Ingrid bit her lip, hurt flooding her eyes. She turned her back on Sylvain and marched over to her friends. Sylvain followed, swearing as eloquently as a sailor in his head.

“Good evening, Sylvain,” Mercedes said when he sat down opposite her. “I hope we haven’t called you away from anything important.”

“Not at all,” Sylvian said. “It’s always a pleasure to chat with such a lovely group of ladies.”

Ingrid snorted.

“I’ve never seen you in a suit before, Sylvain,” Annette said. “You look like a proper business man.”

“At least I look the part. If you get that right, people don’t ask whether you can actually do the job.”

“Ingrid!” the barista shouted.

Ingrid shoved her chair back and stormed across to the counter to collect their order.

“Oh dear,” Mercedes said, watching her go. “Ingrid appears to be upset about something.”

“Do you think everything’s all right with her masters?” Annette asked anxiously.

“It seems unlikely something went wrong at school,” Mercedes said. “Classes just started.”

Ingrid slammed the tray onto the table and passed out the beverages.

“Ingrid, is everything okay?” Mercedes asked as she took her mug of tea.

“Everything’s fine,” Ingrid replied. “So, Sylvain, are you still seeing Penny?”

Sylvain blinked. “Penny?” he said.

Ingrid forced a laugh. “Goddess, was that her name? You’ve got so many girlfriends I can barely keep track.”

Annette and Mercedes both leaned back in their chairs. Sylvain didn’t blame them. He was seriously regretting his decision to accept their invitation.

“Ingrid,” he said, turning in his seat to face her, “I’m sorry. I swear, I wasn’t hitting on you. It was a mistake.”

“You weren’t hitting on me?” Ingrid asked, meeting his eyes.

“Honestly. It’s habit. Just the way I act around girls. You’re my best friend, I wouldn’t…”

Ingrid pushed her chair back, snatched her bag from the table and strode out of the café.

“Whoa,” Annette said. “She’s angry.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sylvain said, spinning back towards them. “I don’t know…”

He stopped as Mercedes regarded him knowingly over the top of her mug.

“What?” he demanded.

“For someone with so much experience with women, you are utterly clueless,” Mercedes said, lowering her mug. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”

“What do you mean?” Sylvain asked.

Mercedes laced her fingers together, placing her hands on the table with a dramatic sigh. Sylvain had the sudden impression that she would be a very unforgiving nurse, and he hoped he never ended up in hospital under her care.

“For the past four weeks, Ingrid has been trying to get you to hit on her,” she said.

Sylvain’s grip tightened on his coffee cup. “What?”

Annette eagerly jumped in.

“She asked us how to get your attention,” she said. “So we’ve been teaching her how to dress up a bit more. She really tried for Hilda’s party, and I thought she looked fantastic. But you left with that other girl. She didn’t cry, but I could tell she was really upset.”

“She told me to dance with Penny,” Sylvain cried, gesturing after Ingrid. “And then she disappeared for the rest of the night!”

“What was she supposed to do? We hadn’t coached her on how to hijack a flirtation yet,” Mercedes said.

Annette blushed. “Not that I’d be much good at that either,” she said. “Mercedes is the real expert here.”

Sylvain clenched his fist as pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“So I suggested that she try acting indifferent,” Mercedes said. “She’s always rushing to help you, no matter how trivial the matter. I suggested she be too busy.”

“Wait,” Sylvain said, holding up a hand. “That day at the cafeteria?”

“Oh, that day she did really have a family event. It was convenient, since I had suggested she invent some appointments to use as excuses. But Ingrid is not a good liar.”

Sylvain dropped his head into his hands.

“I was trying to ask her out that day,” he hissed.

“Oh.”

That was all Mercedes said. Sylvain glared up at her. She sipped innocently at her tea.

“It seems I misinterpreted the situation,” she said.

“So I’m the person Ingrid likes?” Sylvain demanded, just for clarification.

Annette giggled.

“Women don’t go around kissing random men,” she said.

Sylvain stood up.

“For your information, some do,” he said.

And he ran after Ingrid.

Sylvain didn’t find Ingrid. After trying to call her and getting no answer, he returned to his car and drove home. When he arrived, he discovered Felix wasn’t there. It was Tuesday—he had fencing lessons. Relieved, Sylvain dumped his satchel onto the couch, dropped down beside it and lifted his feet onto the table. He kicked his shoes off and threw back his head.

Closing his eyes, Sylvain began to run through all his encounters with Ingrid during the previous month. As he did, he realised that it had been obvious all along. But he was so used to women being over-the-top with him that he hadn’t noticed. A kiss on the cheek was so tame compared with the things women had done in the past. Unless, of course, the person doing the kissing was Ingrid.

Groaning, Sylvain raked his fingers down his face.

His phone rang. Sylvain picked it up. He glanced at the screen, expecting a telemarketer, then jumped to his feet and answered it.

“Where are you?” he asked Ingrid.

Her voice was timid as she answered.

“At the door.”

“My door?” Sylvain said, already heading towards it.

“Yes.”

Sylvain opened the door, phone still to his ear, to find Ingrid standing in the hall.

“I know the passcode for the building,” she said, speaking into the phone.

Sylvain hung up and stepped back, letting Ingrid enter the apartment. She did, shooting past without touching him. Sylvain closed and locked the door before following.

Ingrid was standing in the main room, awkwardly looking around with her hands clasped together in front of her. She hadn’t put down her bag.

Her nerves were enough to infect Sylvain. He diverted into the kitchen.

“Do you want tea?” he asked.

Ingrid looked at him as he held up the kettle.

“Mercedes and Annette told me what happened,” she said.

Sylvain put the kettle down. He tapped his fingers on the bench, then left the kitchen and joined her in the main room.

“Sit down,” he said, moving his satchel.

Ingrid did, her knees together and hands resting in her lap.

“So you were going to ask me out that day at uni?” she asked as Sylvain sat next to her.

“That was the plan,” Sylvain replied.

“I thought you were just bored. I really did have a family commitment.”

“Mercedes said.”

Ingrid laughed nervously, picking at her fingernails. Sylvain turned on the seat so he could look at her, crossing one leg over his knee. He propped his head on his hand, leaning his elbow against the back of the couch.

“Ingrid, why didn’t you say something?” he said. “All this…” he gestured to her outfit, “…I mean, I like it, but all this to get a guy? That’s not you.”

“Was I supposed to march up to you and blurt it out?” Ingrid said. “I’ve known you my whole life. You’re my best friend. I didn’t want to risk losing you because of a stupid crush.”

“Is it a stupid crush?”

Ingrid blushed. She twisted her hands together for a moment, then faced him.

“No,” she said firmly.

Sylvain laughed. “I guess I can’t criticise you. I didn’t do much better.”

Biting the bullet, he took her hand.

“Listen, Ingrid,” he said. “Hilda’s party. I wanted to take you home. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. But I thought you weren’t interested, the way you threw me at those girls.”

Ingrid bit her lip. “But you still went home with her.”

“I regretted every moment of it. Really. The next morning, I told Penny I’d made a mistake and that I liked you and that we couldn’t see each other again.”

Ingrid frowned. “You told Penny sleeping with her was a mistake?”

Sylvain took a deep breath. “And um, yeah. That didn’t go down well. But I did it, because I didn’t want you to have to deal with her later.”

Ingrid shifted, her fingers tightening around Sylvain’s.

“Well that, in some sort of sick and weird way, is kind of nice,” she said.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Ingrid smiled, then looked down sheepishly at their joined hands.

“But you really knocked me down with that thing in the kitchen,” Sylvain accused.

“What do you mean?” Ingrid said, looking startled.

“Kissing me and then saying you liked someone? Talk about raising my hopes, then shooting them down and trampling all over them.”

“You’re smart,” Ingrid said. “I thought you’d figure it out. And then I thought maybe you were trying to let me down gently.”

“Ingrid, for me to know what was going on, you would’ve had to give me a proper clue.”

She threw her hands in the air.

“Kissing you isn't a good enough clue? And I’ve never done this before!”

Sylvain’s heart thumped. She really was cute.

“And tonight?” he asked, suddenly ready to end the talking part.

Ingrid blushed deeply. “I may have lost my temper a little bit.”

“A little bit?” Sylvain said, leaning towards her.

“Just a little,” Ingrid said, leaning away from him.

But she could only go as far as the arm of the couch and she was trapped. Sylvain held himself over her, savouring the anticipation. He would only get to kiss her for the first time once.

“In my defence, you are extremely frustrating,” Ingrid said. “How was I supposed to feel? You basically said you don’t find me attractive.”

“No,” Sylvain said, caressing her face, “I said I wouldn’t hit on you. It’s different.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “How, exactly?”

“I don’t hit on girls I like.”

“You’re talking bullshit.”

“You’re still talking. Why, exactly?”

Sylvain lowered his lips towards hers. Ingrid’s whole body tensed beneath him. He lifted his head back up.

“Ingrid, relax.”

“I can’t,” Ingrid said, both arms snapped against her sides like she was a statue. “I’ve never been kissed before.”

“Then let me teach you.”

“That is the most perverted thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“No, this is.” He moved so he could whisper in her ear. “I’m going to teach you so, so many things.”

Ingrid pushed against his chest. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Sylvain laughed. “No, it’s not,” he said, and kissed her nose and her cheeks and her eyelids. By that point, Ingrid was laughing too. Finally, Sylvain returned to her mouth. This time, she hesitantly, and then eagerly, kissed him back. She really was inexperienced, but it didn’t matter. It was still the best kiss he had ever had. And it would be even better, he thought, as he set about showing her how it was done.

Sylvain stopped when Ingrid began to press against his chest again, this time with both hands. He pulled back, searching her face. She was flushed, her lips swollen, and her hair a mess. Beautiful.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eager to get back to business.

“Um, I need to take my coat off,” Ingrid said. “It’s really warm in here. Aren’t you warm?”

Sylvain swung onto his knees, giving Ingrid room to sit up.

“I am not going to oppose any removal of clothing,” he said, tugging his suit jacket off and loosening his tie.

It was the wrong thing to say. Ingrid’s expression closed and she looked away. Sylvain paused.

“Um, about that,” Ingrid said.

Sylvain lifted his tie over his head, dropping it on the floor. Ingrid lay her coat over her lap and began to pick at the fur collar. Sylvain waited, undoing the top buttons of his shirt. Still Ingrid didn’t continue. That was more than enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

“We don’t have to,” Sylvain said, crossing his legs and leaning back against the armrest.

Ingrid spun her head towards him.

“Really?” she said, the word bursting out of her. “Because I know that you’re used to sleeping with women the first night. But I’m not ready. I mean, I’ve never even had a boyfriend before. But I don’t want to disappoint you…”

“Hey,” Sylvain said, taking her hands. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. Just flings. So I’m learning too. And you’re not disappointing me.”

Ingrid averted her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I mean, I want that to be part of our relationship, at some point, but it’s not a deal breaker if you’re not ready now. It’s not the reason I want to date you.”

“It’s not?”

“No. I want to date you because I love you.”

Ingrid’s eyes widened. Sylvain laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t think that’s something you’re supposed to say on the first date, but it’s true,” he said. “I feel so comfortable around you. I trust you completely. I want to help you make your dreams come true and I’m so proud of you every time you achieve something amazing. I’ve never felt that with anyone else.”

Ingrid was still for a long moment. Then she put her coat down and shuffled along the couch.

“How do I do this again?” she asked, resting her hand on Sylvain’s shoulder.

Sylvain heard the front door, but ignored it because how could he not when Ingrid was looking at him like that? Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled his head towards her. Sylvain tugged Ingrid into his lap as she hesitantly prodded his lips with her tongue, initiating a deeper kiss for the first time.

And Felix cleared his throat directly above them. Sylvain and Ingrid broke apart, Ingrid turning her head so she could see him.

“Aren’t Ingrid and Dimitri the ones in a secret relationship?” Felix said, dropping his fencing gear on the floor.

“Man, come on,” Sylvain moaned.

Ingrid grinned as she rested her arms over Sylvain’s shoulders.

“You thought I liked Dimitri?” she said mischievously.

Sylvain glared at Felix.

“You’re a traitor,” he said.

Ingrid kissed Sylvain on the cheek.

“I like you,” she whispered.

Sylvain tightened his arm around Ingrid’s waist, revelling in the joy in her gorgeous green eyes.

“Some privacy, Felix, please,” he said, waving him away.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little trip down the rabbit hole. At the moment I have one more instalment for this series planned, but honestly I don't know where it will end up because lately my ideas have been snowballing. Thanks for reading!


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